


On the Vine

by giggling_bubble



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Agreements, Espionage, F/M, Falling out, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Identity Reveal, No longer in paris, No more hawk moth, Plans For The Future, Recovery, Regrets, Resolution, Revelations, Running Away, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Vineyard, Volunteer asignment, Wine, fixing adrien, forced vacation, healing marinette, nathalie the unsung hero, no pressure, one weekend, redeeming gabriel, self-hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giggling_bubble/pseuds/giggling_bubble
Summary: After discovering his father's identity as Hawk Moth, Adrien convinces him to give up his miraculous or he'll turn him over to Ladybug and Chat Noir. He also quits modelling.One year later, Adrien is living at a vineyard, outside of Paris, that was once his mother's in an attempt to come to terms and find himself.Marinette misses her kitty. One day he was acting strange and the next gone. Then a month later Adrien left the city. Heartbroken, she throws herself into her work in an attempt to fill the void.What neither expected was their paths to cross.





	1. Chapter 1

The winds whipped through the vineyard with a sobering chill. Adrien stared over the rolling green vines and bulbous bunches of plump purple fruit. There was one thing about this vineyard that he loved and that had nothing to do with his mother. It was the peace and solitude. This had been her project, one his father had allowed, and kept in her memory. Adrien found himself being drawn here more each year and often volunteered to help the workers pick the vine ripened fruits.

Today, he was just sitting on the wooden slatted table drinking a glass of their last batch of pinot noir. It was delicious, as usual, but he was finding his appreciation for the atmosphere trumping his appreciation for the wine. Just being there transported him to a different place altogether where his head was clear and there was no problem he couldn't face. It was a place of empowerment.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned around to find a couple young girls smiling at him shyly, "Aren't you Adrien Agreste?"

He turned back to his glass of wine and nodded once. There was a squeal of delight and he rolled his eyes. Though he'd moved to the country, to get away from it all, there was still the occasional recognition.

After the devastating blow dealt to both his ego, and his family, finding out his father was Hawk Moth had opened some opportunities to him that were unforeseen. Per their agreement, his father would give up his miraculous and relinquish Adrien from any further modeling obligations in exchange for Adrien not turning him over to Ladybug and Chat Noir. His father was completely oblivious to his son being Chat Noir, but it didn't even matter in the end.

Adrien still felt guilty sometimes when he'd wake up in his room late at night, a cold sweat spilling over his skin and his breath coming in panicked pants, and he would watch Ladybug's crestfallen face as he disappeared never to return. It was awful the way he'd ended it and Ladybug deserved better, but he just couldn't bring himself to face her knowing that his father had been terrorizing Paris. After an inevitable reveal, as they'd discussed, he just couldn't. He probably never would reveal himself to her now.

Instead, knowing he couldn't give up the freedom afforded by his alter-ego, Adrien moved to this country retreat where there was a vineyard he could rely on for a steady source of income and still pursue his nightly activities. Well, that was if Plagg wasn't in an argumentative mood; otherwise, it wasn't worth it. The lecture of 'what you did to Ladybug' made a constant appearance between the two. It wasn't like they'd ever really had much of a favorable rapport, but Plagg was steadily becoming more of a thorn in his side with every passing day.

"Could you sign this?"

He was pulled out of his reverie to see a magazine. It was a Gabriel collectible addition with various shots over the years. He was on the cover and comprised close to half of the poses throughout. He closed his eyes and stifled a groan, but took the pen she handed him to scrawl his name across the front. It wasn't like he'd signed an autograph in the last year or so.

"Thank you!!!" she squealed, "This is so exciting. Thank you, Adrien!" The girls shuffled off to the tasting room, where he presumed their parents were partaking in the wine, and returned to his thoughts and glass of...now empty glass. Damn. He knew Ramone should have poured him some more wine.

"Ramone!" he called and a man with a vibrant smile came striding out of the tasting room.

"You called, mon ami?"

He held up his empty wine glass and tipped it over with a frown, "I'm afraid you neglected to pour a sufficient glass of wine."

The man rolled his eyes and huffed, "You said that about the first two."

"You must fill it to the top," Adrien pointed to the rim of the glass with a begging pouted lip, "S'il vous plait?!"

"Right away," he chuckled.

"Merci beaucoup!"

"De rien! Un moment." With that, he was gone.

 Adrien spent most of his days in contemplative silence. There were too many loose ends he'd left behind to dwell on any of them.

On bad nights, when he'd polish off a couple bottles, he'd get into a self-deprecating funk and blubber and rant about it to his unsuspecting kwami, aka best friend, aka he's so lame he turned his back on his friends for a snarky floating cat and the hired help. Every once in a while he'd record one and Plagg would confiscate his phone before he could post anything compromising. He'd review them the next day and swear never to drink again before pouring another glass at lunch. Lush.

There was the issue of cutting off Nino, Alya, Marinette, and Chloe. It was an entirely different ball of wax, his friends paling in pitiful comparison, to Ladybug. His feelings for her never faded, but his guilt and desire to grovel increased with each passing day. He'd almost transformed and drunk dialed her yo-yo receiver, but Plagg dropped his transformation too soon. One night it wasn't soon enough, however, as Plagg caught a new coating of stomach lining shellac via one blitzed Adrien Agreste as he tried to zoom away.

"Your new glass of wine, Monsieur!" Ramone presented the overly full glass with a flourish and managed not to spill a single drop over the edge.

Adrien grinned appreciatively, "Merci." He gently took the glass and quickly drank down the liquid to a less precarious point below the rim. It was nectar in a glass. Yes, Adrien knew he might have a problem. At this moment, the cool wind in his hair and the view of the rolling vines, he didn't care. _Ooooommmm_. The chant was in his head, but he might as well be meditating. His relaxation level was top notch when perched up here.

 _'Different is hard, different is lonely. Different is trouble for you only...'_ His ring tone rang out through the quiet afternoon and he sighed. That was a ringtone he hadn't heard in a loooong time. _Nathalie._

"Hello, Nathalie," he answered with a sigh out of his nose.

"A-Adrien?"

"Not Nathalie," he chuckled. His wine taking the edge off of his normally solid professional demeanor.

"Not quite," was her whispered reply, "I, uh, don't know if you remember me, but it's Marinette. I used to sit behind you--"

"MARINETTE!!!" he exclaimed, "Of course, I remember you." Okay, so perhaps he'd had a bit more to drink than he thought. Normally, he'd find a way out of talking to his former friends. He would probably have pretended not to remember the extent of their familiarity.

"Oh, o-okay," she said, "I'm calling because your father needs to get an interview from you. It's for an upcoming expose about your time modeling for him."

"Isn't that rich," he grumbled and sighed. He couldn't really come up with a good reason not to, no one knew he and his father's arrangement or why, "He can send someone down here then and we'll work something out."

He couldn't be quite sure, but he thought he heard her squeak.

"Uh, okay," she whispered, "I'm the one doing the interview. He doesn't, and I quote, want a reporter within fifty feet of you."

Adrien rolled his eyes and chuckled, "I bet he doesn't. I guess I'll expect to see you down this way sometime, Marinette."

"I guess so," she agreed. After an awkward pause, Marinette asked, "How are you?"

He almost missed it, she was so quiet, but it was there. How could he forget how compassionate and caring Marinette was? A genuine smile erupted on his face, "Better than I've been in years," he confessed. It was the honest truth, even with all his regrets. He felt more free, in control, and at peace than he'd ever been.

"I'm happy you're happy Adrien."

With the alcohol muddling his mind, and his heart warmed by her sincerity, he said the first thing that ran through his head in response, "I miss you."

There was a gasp on the other end and a pause. "I, uh, I miss you, too. Talk to you later. I'll call again to arrange a time and text you my phone number in case we need to touch base or something."

"Sure," he nodded, "Talk to you later, Marinette."

"Bye, Adrien."

"Bye, sweet girl."

He stared at the phone in shocked disbelief. _Sweet girl?_ He'd just called her sweet girl. What kind of moron, that's trying to put space between his past, goes and gets _overly friendly_ with someone directly from it? Someone he's going to see again soon? He does, apparently. With a sigh, Adrien slaps his hand across his forehead and drags it down his face. Then he set the wine glass off to the side. He'd had plenty enough wine for today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ring tone Nathalie set for herself in Adrien's phone is 'Different.' It was performed by Mama Cass Elliot for H.R. Pufnstuf in the 1960s as Witch Hazel. 
> 
> I almost feel it should be my anthem some days.
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd-SbI-WZZE


	2. Chapter 2

"Girl."

Marinette sat at the desk staring at her friend, Alya, who had traveled with her to work that day. It was because of her journalistic expertise she'd offered the invite; or that's what Marinette told herself. It wasn't like she was looking for moral support. It wasn't as if she was nervous about contacting the one person she'd always craved a more intimate connection with.

_Nathalie walked into the work area and waved her tablet with a sweeping wave to call for everyone's attention, "We need an interview from Adrien, Mr. Agreste's son. Any volunteers?"_

_No one. Not a single person raised their hands. It was no secret that he had disappeared, and probably due to poor circumstances. Marinette honestly didn't know why he had left, no one did, but she liked to think she knew Adrien.  
_

_The tablet shifted in Nathalie's hands and she pursed her lips, "No one?"_

_"Is there an incentive?" A curly red-haired girl asked._ _The word incentive came out slow with a hiss like a snake._ _She twirled her pencil in her right hand and clicked her tongue in the roof of her mouth; cocky and selfishly ambitious. Those were two qualities Marinette found repugnant._

_Nathalie obviously found it repugnant as well. Her lips formed a tense line as she leveled a steely glare at the girl. Just before she opened her mouth..._

_" **I will** ," Marinette said, a little too loudly, as she tentatively raised her hand. "I'll do the interview." Even though Adrien had decided to abandon all of his friends for his own reasons, and she still felt hurt to this day, she couldn't find it in her heart to throw him to the sharks.  
_

_"Marinette!" Nathalie smiled, pleased, "I'm sure he'd be pleased to hear from you."_

_She glanced around the room and realized now half the interns were glaring at her. At that moment she just wanted to disappear. None of her peers knew that she and Adrien had been friends, and_ _she had intended to keep it that way_ _._ Thanks, Nathalie.

_"I will give you his number and you can make the call at your own leisure. I need his interview for the next catalogue."_

_"Could I use your phone?" she asked timidly._

_"Yes, of course. Carry on!"_

_As the door closed behind her, the realization of her situation finally had a moment to sink_   _in. '_ What have I done?' _She had trouble functioning for the rest of the day._

"Girl!"

She had volunteered to make the phone call, but the dynamics of the assignment had suddenly changed. She'd been told it was a phone interview only. Now, it appeared, she would have to travel _to_ Adrien for it. _Oh dear_.

"Girl?"

Alya was just staring at her blankly; she kept repeating the same word only with different inflection. It wasn't making anything clearer or helping at all.

"I know, Alya," Marinette finally managed.

"You're going to visit Adrien." Alya's breath burst out of her at once, "Boy, talk about karma." All those years of not telling him were just coming back to bite her in the ass in the most glorious of ways. Outwardly, Alya was pretending to be as shocked as Marinette. Inside, her devilish side was rubbing her hands together whispering ' _this is excellent_.'

"You're not helping," Marinette glowered, "I realize Nino is pissed. Would he hate me if I do this?"

"NO, girl. HELL no," Alya grinned, "He may be mad as all get out, not at you, but he like insanely misses his best bud. No doubt. I'm pretty sure I've even caught him getting sappy over some video games because of that boy. He'll want you to ask some personal questions, I'm sure, so just don't let him down. You can tell me and I'll tell him so he can maintain his 'I don't care' reputation. He's got this 'I care, but I don't want you to know' vibe going on right now."

"That's so weird," she sighed, "I miss him. I'm kind of surprised how much I do."

"Yeah, that beautiful blonde hair and the gorgeous green eyes. What's not to miss?" she teased.

"No, Alya. I mean, I miss more than that. I miss...his cheesy sense of humor and the dorky way he acts when he doesn't have to be 'on,' you know? His sweet smiles, the real ones, and his compassion. I just miss  _him._ "

Alya massaged her temple absentmindedly, "You're still head over heels for him, aren't you? Girl, we talked about this." Every night. For months. Over ice cream and coffee with tears and sappy movies. It took a while, but eventually Marinette really dove into her work with gusto and landed an awesome opportunity working on a design team with Gabriel. All that work and she was still pining for him.

"The heart wants what the heart wants." It was a cliche excuse, but they were cliche for a reason. Just like a stereotype, cliches came to be with a heavy dose of truth. Much like a blonde being dumb started; sure, they were bottle blondes, so truly non-blondes, but the stereotype is still pervasive in society today. From Marinette's personal experience with models, the majority of bottle blondes had earned that. Especially, the one that she worked with last week who managed to wax her legs together a day before her shoot.

"Don't quote literature at me you twitterpated trollop!" she chuckled, "You are so far gone I wash my hands of you." Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. There was little Alya could do to convince her to move on.

Marinette giggled, "Sorry. I just can't move on like everyone else. It's not that easy for me."  _Not when I lost both Adrien and Chat Noir so close to the same time._ Her broken heart never quite recovered and her mind wouldn't let her forget. It was like that trauma was unrelenting and she wore it as a scar across her heart; one that would never completely heal.

* * *

Sitting at her sewing desk, her phone chimed to notify her of a new text message. The number was unknown, but she opened it.

Unknown: Hi, Marinette. This is Adrien. Let me know when you'd like to do this interview.

Marinette stared at it and sighed before adding the number to her phone under 'Hot-stuff.' It was an inside joke, that only Alya would know, so no one would know it was his number. She didn't have time to deal with this right now. Instead, she went back to her sewing. Well, she tried. The entire time she tried piecing the skirt together her mind kept nagging at her to send him a reply.

DING! Another text message.

Hot-stuff: I saw you read my message. Do you want me to call? Would that be easier?

"GAHH!!!" she groaned, "NO!" she shouted at the phone, "I don't want you to call! I want you to leave me alone so I can function like a normal human being!" She slammed the phone down on the desk and growled. Then she whispered, "I'm sorry, Adrien, I don't mean that. I miss you. I want to talk to you, but I can't seem to think when I do...so no. Don't ca--"

The phone began to ring.

"Gosh dang it!" Her heart about leapt out of her chest. She sighed and took a deep breath. "Hello, Adrien."

"Marinette," he greeted. There was an awkward silence where neither of them said a word. "Look, I know my father is probably the one pushing for this so you'd be better off doing it sooner rather than later. He's pretty hard to please and will likely change the deadline for you to get back to him."

She hadn't really thought of that, but it was true, Gabriel was known for changing deadlines to accomplish more. "Uh, n-next weekend, maybe? I don't really know where you are."

He huffed, "I'm sorry, Marinette, that completely slipped my mind. Of course. There is a vineyard called Vin de Muses. I'll be there. Just take the green line from Gare de Lyon to Gare de Melun. It's a straight shot. I'll have someone pick you up at the station. The vineyard is a short drive from there."

"Okay. Yeah. That should work," she nodded, and bit her lip nervously. "Friday I'll catch the morning train. I earned a day off."

"Congratulations! Friday works," he agreed. "I'll see you then."

Marinette was sure she imagined it, but it was as if she could hear him smiling and couldn't repress one of her own, "See you then."

She hung up and just stared at the phone for a minute before freaking out. Her phone waved wildly as her arms and legs flailed. She shouldn't still have these feelings for him. It had been almost a year. He had left his friends behind. He'd left  _her._ His voice shouldn't elicit the same heart-pounding, muscles seizing response out of her anymore, and yet, she couldn't avoid it. It took two phone calls for her to realize she had been lying to herself this whole time. Truth be told, thanks to that realization, she was a bit angry. She didn't know who she was more angry with right now, she just knew that she was.

"I said _not_ to call you twit!" she yelled at the phone with an eye-roll. It wasn't like he could hear her.

* * *

Marinette didn't sleep worth a hoot the night before her trip to see Adrien.

It was raining the day she headed out to the train station with her hard shelled luggage. The rain made a dull thudding sound as it pelted the plastic side. "Holy mackerel," she exclaimed, "It's pouring!" In her haste to get under shelter she bumped into a tall figure in a dark overcoat. He turned to face her and their eyes met. He looked tired, maybe even a little sad, but she would recognize him anywhere.

"You noticed that, eh?" the older man smiled cordially. "I thought I might be the only one."

"M. Agreste?!?!" she gaped, "I'm sorry. I really should have been more careful."

"No harm done," he nodded tersely. Then comprehension dawned on his features, "Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, yes? You are interviewing my son, Adrien."

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Here," he pulled a little envelope out of his pocket, "I was off to mail this to him. I presume you're on your way. Could you deliver this for me?"

There was a knowing expression beneath the surface, almost as if he'd been waiting for her, but she shrugged off the idea. That was just ridiculous.

"Of course," she nodded and gingerly took the envelope from his hands.

"Thank you. Have a wonderful day." With a quick nod, he ducked back into the downpour and into a nearby sedan.

"You, too, M. Agreste." Marinette stared down at the envelope with a baffled expression. That was a strange encounter. M. Agreste seemed almost nervous and vulnerable, much more so than she'd ever witnessed before. When she saw him in the office, just a few days ago, he was rigid and professional as ever. Today he seemed almost human, different.

Marinette waited there for a break in the rain. She ran across the street and entered the terminal. She leaned against the wall with her dripping hair and stashed the envelope inside her jacket pocket. It would be safe there.

"Boarding to Gare de Melun! All aboard!"

"Well, that's me," she mumbled to herself. Her fingers gripped the lapels of her jacket and she pulled them up confidently. There was a crisp scent in the air, the fast approaching autumn weather perhaps, and it sent a chill through her. "I can do this," she whispered once more. The pep talk was necessary and became a mantra. _I can do this. I'm okay. It's just a boy. I can do this. I'm okay. It's just Adrien._ As soon as Adrien's name flashed through her mind her knees wobbled. There was no such thing as _just_ Adrien. This was Adrien. Intimidated didn't even begin to cover how she was feeling. The mixed emotions were raging through her subconscious, but she forced it down.

She'd managed to find her seat, but only barely. There was an older lady already seated against the window.

"I'm fine!" she exclaimed. The woman sitting next to her jumped and stared nervously. "Sorry. I'm just nervous."

"No worries, dear," she nodded and turned to face away from her. Just her luck, get stuck sitting next to a crazy person talking to herself.

Marinette huddled in on herself in the seat. This would be a long ride. Not only was she going to have to endure this silence, alone, but she'd have to endure this silence with only her thoughts which made it even worse. If there was any mercy in this world she'd fall asleep as soon as possible.

There was no mercy. Not only did the woman next to her think she was crazy, but she also snored...loudly.

It was an hour long trip to the station. Marinette almost cheered as they pulled up to the platform despite the flurry of flutters in her stomach as her anxiety picked up. She had decided, within the past thirty seconds, that this was a poorly planned trip. She didn't have enough information to get to the vineyard. There was someone, she didn't know who, picking her up. She didn't know what he looked like, the car he was driving, if he was actually a he, or where they were going afterwards. Plus, the awkwardness of not knowing what to talk about the entire way there while she stews with her own thoughts before meeting Adrien again.

Well, all thoughts were cut off when she stepped off the train and almost directly into the open arms of one Adrien Agreste.

"Marinette!!!" he exclaimed as he embraced her tightly, "It's so good to see you."

"A-Adrien," she returned the hug, albeit stiffly, "I didn't expect you."

"I rode in with Ramone," he waved at a tall, dark, and handsome man waiting next to a sleek black sedan. "He works at the vineyard. Shall we?" He held out his hand and she tentatively took it.

Marinette immediately noticed the smell of alcohol on Adrien's breath and his languid movements; almost swaying as they walked. She was almost certain that he was drunk.

They approached Ramone and Marinette lifted her eyebrows and gave the universal gesture for 'drinking.' Ramone's lips tightened an affirmative and he nodded once.

This was perfect. Just perfect. Adrien was drunk.

She climbed into the backseat of the car and scooted over to the other side. Adrien followed her in and scooted up right next to her. He threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, "So, Marinette, what have you been up to?"

This cuddly side of Adrien, though unexpected, was not unwelcome. If she'd been told he would be holding her so tightly half an hour ago she'd have called the person a liar. Now, it took all she had not to blush into oblivion.

"I'm g-good," she nodded, "You?"

He chuckled lowly, "Doing all right."

They both sat there, Marinette awkwardly stiff as Adrien held him to his side. The car was not filled with an awkward silence, as she'd expected it to be, because Adrien was narrating the entire drive back to the vineyard. She'd never seen him so chatty before.

"There's the neighbor's chateau. It used to have a big stable when I was a kid. My mom would take me down for riding lessons. I got a scar, in an undisclosed location, when I was six after one of them threw me. There's rolling fields as far as the eye can see up this way. We own it, as part of the vineyard, but haven't ever planted it."

Marinette listened, as she slowly relaxed, to the sound of his voice and the quiet hum of the car engine. She must fallen asleep on him. Her eyes closed, for a split second, and the next second she heard someone speaking softly in her ear. There was a lilting, lyrical feel to the voice as his dulcet tones coaxed her to consciousness.

"It's time to wake up, princess. We're here," he hummed.

She felt his finger tips brush across her temple as they carried some stray hairs away from her face. The fingertips kept petting her softly.

"Come on, Mari," he chuckled.

Marinette turned into the warmth, wrapped her arms around it tightly, and sighed happily as she nuzzled deeper into the warmth she found there.

Adrien giggled as Marinette buried her nose in his neck; it tickled. Instead of trying to wake her up further, he shrugged, climbed around, and lifted her out of the car.

Ramone started towards him, his arms outstretched, worried he might be too intoxicated to carry her safely.

"I've got her, Ramone," Adrien grinned and winked, "old friends."

Ramone, misunderstanding the wink, nodded and grinned, "Take your time."

Adrien carried Marinette up to her room where he deposited her into the prepared bed. It was across the hall from his own room, with a honeycomb quilt and extra fluffy pillows. He'd wanted her to feel as at home here as possible. It wasn't like his friends came to visit him every day; if he could consider them his friends anymore.

He started to move away, but as he did, her arms reached out for him and pulled him back down. Adrien figured he could use a nap before lunch. Why not?


	3. Chapter 3

**Friday: Early Afternoon**

Marinette had the most amazing dream, and a restful sleep, that her lips were naturally pulled upwards into a small smile. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. She was so comfortable she could sleep for days. She turned her head and burrowed into the warmth of her pillow.

That was until her pillow wrapped itself around her and nuzzled her back.

She squealed and pushed it away. Her eyes snapped open to see the hind end of someone tumbling over the side of the bed. Marinette peeked over at the whimpering lump of a person on the floor.

Once her eyes roved over the blonde, sleeping form of Adrien Agreste, she snapped back up, horrified. Eyes wide, hand covering her silent scream, as she realized she'd just pushed him out of _her_ bed. "Holy shit." What was Adrien doing in bed with her? And where was she?

It took her a minute to realize where she was. She remembered the train, the arrival, and him narrating the trip to the vineyard.

His whine in his sleep broke her reverie and she saw his face contort in pain.

"Oh, Adrien, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and leaned over the side of the bed. With the strength she had from hefting flour sacks, Marinette climbed off and lifted Adrien gently into the bed. Then she clamored over him, to the other side, to kneel down and observe him. "What hurts?" she asked and reached out to inspect his head for damage. Instead, what she heard was a soft snore and she chuckled. He hadn't even fully awakened.

Although, where her fingertips were searching for bumps, his head was pushing insistently into them as he sighed happily in nhis sleep. Marinette's heart lurched in her chest. He was nuzzling her hands. It brought back her dream she'd had with vivid clarity, except, this time with emotional pain attached.

_"Come on, My Lady. You just have to race me to the Eiffel. If you win, I'll leave you alone. If I win, you go on a date with me."_

_She giggled at his playfulness, but realized she didn't have time for his games, "Not tonight, Chaton. I have to meet my friends. It's getting late."_

_"Oh, shoot, yeah," he nodded, "I guess I'll see you around, My Lady._

_With a soft kiss to her knuckles, he launched himself out into the night._

_Marinette landed in the alley behind the restaurant to drop her transformation. She was meeting Alya, Nino, and Adrien for supper. They were celebrating Alya and Nino's engagement._

_"Hey, glad you could make it!" Alya cheered and stood to hug her best friend, "Nino and I were betting on who was going to be later. He said you. I said Adrien."_

_An arm draped around her shoulders, "What did I do?" Adrien flashed a winning smile at them all and chuckled, "Oh, man, even Mari beat me? Ah, well, can't win them all."_

_They had a nice time just chatting about random things. Alya about the smell of ink and how it just did things to her. Nino, about his intimate relationship with music, like Alya's with ink, and he couldn't quite explain it to anyone. Adrien discussed his love of adrenaline sports and puns. By the end of the conversation, all of a sudden, it was Chat sitting in Adrien's place. He was chatting with Alya and Nino, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, while Marinette was unsure as to why Alya and Nino were so chill. It was like they were talking to a different person than Chat Noir. She couldn't figure out where Adrien had gone, but just shrugged and went with it. It was a good night._

_Then she woke up._

Sitting there, next to Adrien, and remembering her dream, felt bittersweet. Here she was with Adrien, someone she'd missed immensely, and yet, she still had a gaping hole where Chat should be. Her dream was a tease. It was her subconscious hating her; probably for ignoring those nagging gut feelings to tell both of the blonde boys in her life how she felt before they had disappeared completely.

Marinette realized Adrien was still nuzzling his head into her hands. They were already on his head, and she'd always secretly wanted to run her fingers through his hair, so she allowed her fingertips to brush through it. Her fingernails lightly scratched his scalp as she brought her fingers around to run through his hair again. A contented mewl escapes his lips and Marinette grins. His hair is so soft.

She begins to search his head for a bump again, as she remembered why she had her fingers in his gorgeous hair to begin with. Her face scrunches up in concentration as she feels around for a spot he might have hit. It had to hurt by the way he had whimpered earlier.

"Mmm, keep doing that," he mumbles. Marinette tries not to giggle. Suddenly, two green eyes open, and gaze up into her concerned blue ones. Adrien smiles tenderly up at her, "Hey, Marinette."

He'd never looked at her like that before. Marinette pulls her hands back in a flash; almost as if she'd been burned. Adrien's pout didn't go unnoticed. "H-hello," she smiles shyly. "I was just checking to see if you hurt your head."

Adrien's pout disappeared and his expression morphed into the same adoring one he'd had earlier, "Oh. Yeah, I sometimes wake up with a bit of a headache." He runs his fingers through his hair nervously, and his eyes widen, "Oh, hey. Look, I can explain. You, uh, fell asleep in the car and I tried to put you in here, but you wouldn't let me go, so I just laid down next to you. I was going to go to my room, when I woke up, but I sort of fell asleep and I guess I didn't wake up. Which is weird. I don't normally sleep..." he glanced down at his watch, "For THREE HOURS!? Holy hell!"

"I take it you don't sleep at all," she smirked. His rambling was adorable.

"Not really," his eyes were wide, then he grinned, "I suppose I have you to blame for that." There was an awkward silence, eyes darting around the room, before he glanced back up at Marinette, "So, uh, how have you been?" What he'd actually been thinking in that moment was, _'I need a drink, stat.'_

Marinette leaned away from him and fidgeted with her fingers, "All right. I guess."

"Alya and Nino?"

"Oh, well, I'm sure we'll get to that later," she said with a timid chuckle, "Uh, Adrien?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this m-my room?"

He sat up suddenly, "Oh, yeah, sor--whoa! Ow!" He grabbed his head, " _That_ hurts!"

Marinette's brows furrowed and she worried her lip, "Do you think you'll be okay?"

He nodded, very slowly, "Yeah." His feet flipped off the bed and he headed towards his room. He stopped and turned back to her, "Marinette?"

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to the Vin de Muses," he smiled, "It's really good to see you."

"It's really good to see you, too."

* * *

In his room, Adrien began to overthink things. He quickly grabbed a bottle of brandy, from his special stash, and called for Plagg to come out of his hiding spot.

"Hey, P, I have a question."

Plagg flew out of the trashcan beneath Adrien's desk and yawned lazily, "What ya need, kid?"

"I'm starting to think all those nights are coming back to haunt me."

Plagg's eyes widened, "Just breathe through it. You'll be fine."

"I'm not so sure. Seeing her again, it's like everything is coming back to the surface and I'm feeling like shit about it. Did I make the right choice? Should I have done things differently? She wouldn't even tell me anything about Alya and Nino. This is bad. I'm a horrible person. I screwed up. I ruined my life and put them through unnecessary torment all because of my inability to deal. I should have just gone to therapy like everyone else, like a mature adult would."

"Kid, calm down," Plagg was in his face now.

Adrien pulled his phone out of his pocket. Plagg groaned when he saw it was already recording.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he lamented, "You realize that all these do is tear you up when you revisit them. It's like tearing open a wound over and over again just to see if it is healing. I don't get it. You can't heal if you keep scratching it open!"

Adrien tipped back the bottle and hissed as the liquor burned down his throat.

"Oooh, the hard stuff. Nice choice," Plagg rolled his eyes, "This is ridiculous. Your liver CAN die, you know that, right?"

"Not with you. You remind me of it often enough when I transform."

"Hey, just because I heal you every time doesn't mean this habit won't stick with you after I'm gone."

"Oh, Plagg," Adrien frowned and reached out to snatch the cat out of the air. He held him to his cheek and sighed, "I'll be so far into a bottle when you leave I don't think I'd even want to come out."

"Thanks???"

"I wouldn't survive losing you, buddy," he clicked his tongue, "That's the truth. I don't have anyone else to live for; it's just you and me, bud." He held his bottle up, "Til the end."

"What about that girl over there?" Plagg pulled away from his face and pointed at the door, "She is here because of you."

"Not _for_ me, though, Plagg," Adrien's eyes darkened as the truth cut through his inebriation to hit him where it hurt.

"You don't know that," Plagg grumbled, "She's been pretty persistent before."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Plagg waved his hands flippantly, "Forget I said anything." His kid was so dense it hurt.

Adrien plopped the half empty bottle of brandy next to his bed and sighed, "I'm feeling better now. Whew. That was close. I felt like I was going to throw up."

"You realize you're still likely to throw up, right?"

"Yeah," he let out a long huff, "But I'll feel better while doing it this way."

Plagg just shook his head. This was hopeless. He really hoped Tikki's girl could snap him out of this funk. It wasn't unusual for his Chat Noirs to be alcoholics, but it still didn't mean he had to like it. In fact, he only had about a fifty-fifty success rate getting them to snap out of it. With Adrien, being his favorite to date, this time he was not going to fail.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Cherisher](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherisher/pseuds/Cherisher) for beta reading this chapter for me! I've never really had a beta so thank you so much for helping me out. :)

**Friday afternoon: before supper**

Marinette stared at her phone and contemplated hitting the five on speed dial. He was a mess and she was worried about him, but for some odd reason, she also felt like he looked better now than before. She sighed and pressed it.

"Hey, girl! Are you there?" Alya flopped back and opened her yogurt.

Marinette stared down at the bedspread and nodded out of habit, "Yes. I arrived a few hours ago."

"You're only just now calling me?"

"I sort of fell asleep in the car on the way here." Adrien had been very accommodating, and with the exhaustion from the night before, it was pretty assured she'd fall asleep.

"Gotcha." Alya popped a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth and smirked, "So, how is _it_?"

Marinette could hear the implied 'he' when she said 'it.' It was typical Alya, prodding and whatnot, but Marinette didn't feel like entertaining her just yet, out of spite.

"The vineyard is beautiful. I haven't really taken a tour yet, but from what I can tell, it's really pretty. I didn't realize there was this much space this close to Paris for a winery. There are grape vines as far as the eye can see."

"It sounds beautiful," Alya muttered impatiently.

"And Adrien's doing _okay_."

"What do you mean by that?" _Okay? Okay!? That doesn't tell me anything!_

Marinette huffed, "I don't know. I mean, he looks more relaxed than I've ever seen him, but I think he might have a bit of a drinking problem."

"Adrien? Is he an alcoholic?"

"I didn't say alcoholic," Marinette chastised. She hated that word. It made him sound like he was damaged or something. "I just said a bit of a drinking _problem_."

"That's an alcoholic, babe," Alya grunted. She didn't sound too pleased with this information.

"No, Alya, I won't let you stigmatize him with broad terms like that. He drinks. I am not qualified to diagnose him as clinical and neither are you."

"Fine, yeah, whatever. I get it. We all know you're a softie, but take those rose colored glasses off a sec. Do you think he's depressed? Or maybe he turned to alcohol because his dad forced him off to some vineyard in the middle of nowhere?"

Marinette shook her head vigorously as she exclaimed into the receiver, "No! I don't think he's depressed. He asked about you guys, but we didn't really have time to talk so I deflected. Also, I think he came here on his own. From the rumors I've heard around the office, Adrien just came in one day, told HR he was leaving and said that if his dad wanted to talk to him, his number was on record and he could call like everyone else."

"Oooh, harsh! Who knew Adrien was so savage?!" Alya whistled, "Yeah, well, I don't know what to tell you, girl. Just follow your gut and go with it. If you would ask him why, though, I'd appreciate it. Nino keeps asking me why I think he left without saying goodbye and just cutting contact like that. When Nino's feeling bitter he says Adrien probably just used him to be his friend so he wouldn't look like a loser at school. He knows it's not true, but he's always looking for an excuse to not care about him anymore. Adrien really hurt him, girl."

"I will try." She could sympathize with how Nino felt, but Marinette still didn't want to be the one to handle that conversation. "You know I've always had trouble talking to him. Just imagine me asking him why he left us without becoming an emotional mess."

"Please try! That's all I can ask. We need the closure here; you, me, and Nino."

"Sure thing," Marinette agreed. "I'm going to start the interview tonight over supper. He said he had something special planned."

"Oh, la la!" Alya cackled, "What kind of special?"

"Nothing like that, Alya," Marinette sighed exasperated. Alya was her best friend, but sometimes she was just too much. She was making a bigger deal out of this than it was. "He said he missed us. I know that much."

"Yeah, well, tell him to stop being such a pansy-ass and call his best friend. Or, why doesn't he come up to visit? Better yet, why doesn't he extend an invitation so we can come visit him?"

"I don't know, Alya. I'll ask. I have to go get ready. Supper will be served in less than an hour and I still have a lot of settling in to do. I have to call Nathalie to give her an update."

"You do your thing, hon, and good luck!"

"Thanks, Als! Salut!"

"À plus!"

Marinette dropped her phone to the bedside table and sighed. Tonight was going to be difficult. _You can do this Marinette. You are a professional. This is for work. This is your job. You can do it! It's just Adrien. Adrien Agreste. Former teen model heartthrob who adorned your walls and was your sole obsession for most of a decade._

Tonight was going to suck. 

**Friday; over supper  
**

Marinette made her way down to the tasting room. They were supposed to meet before heading to Adrien's private veranda overlooking the fields of the winery.

The afternoon was a bit chilly, with the crisp autumn air blowing in from the west. She was thankful she'd worn a sweater. There were quite a few guests at the winery thanks to the cooler weather. Kids were running in and out; giggles permeated the warm atmosphere of quiet, amiable chatter. Though it was chilly outside, the fireplace in the tasting room was stoked and crackling. Through the windows she could see more visitors.

Out on the wrap around porch there were couples on the wicker loveseats, curled up in each other, some with blankets tossed over their legs, nursing bottles of wine and sharing amorous whispers. Marinette couldn't repress her happiness for them; even though, she was a bit melancholy, too. Marinette wished she had someone like that to sit with on a cool day, just enjoying each other's company and shared warmth. She'd hoped, once upon a time, that the man she was meeting tonight could have been that for her, but that chance had come and gone.

"Good evening, Marinette," he cooed.

Speak of the devil.

Said man was standing just behind her. Without hesitation, his fingertips found their way to the small of her back while the other hand gestured ahead of them, "Shall we?"

"Sure," she nodded. It was now or never.

His hand on her back shouldn't have elicited any sort of reaction out of her, and yet, her traitorous heart beat a tattoo inside of her ribs and her skin broke out in goosebumps. Heavens, how Adrien still did things to her. She had it bad.

He lead them up the stairs and to a private veranda. There was a view of the rolling hills and heavily burdened vines. Harvesters were out cutting weaved baskets full of the pendulous, ripened to bursting bunches of fruits. Marinette sat at the table and watched on in fascination. There was a satisfaction, almost relaxing and invigorating at the same time, just sitting and observing the fields. No wonder Adrien liked it so much here.

Speaking of Adrien, where did he go?

* * *

"I can see the way you look at her," Ramone gave Adrien a knowing smile as he uncorked a second bottle of champagne for their meal. His employer would go through that first one alone.

Adrien rolled his eyes and scoffed, "That's not the port."

Ramone knew Adrien's preference. They specially made one batch of port out of the pinot noir grapes just for Adrien every season.

"I was referring to the girl," Ramone chuckled. He held out the proffered wine, "I thought something more sensual, and traditional, for tonight."

Adrien didn't even dignify Ramone's cheekiness with a legitimate response. How did he look at her? "I don't know know what you're talking about. Now, if you'll excuse me, my _friend_ is waiting to rake me over the coals for my father's sick and twisted amusement."

Ramone smirked, "I'm sure she would like to rake you over something, but the coals it is not."

Adrien blushed at that and quickly excused himself to the veranda where Marinette was staring out at the horizon, lost in thought.

"I apologize for my absence," he bowed politely before slipping into his seat across from her. They sat there in silence for a moment before Adrien cleared his throat, "How have you been, Marinette?"

Her shy smile did things to him and he didn't even want to address what those things were. It was ridiculous, really. She was leaving the day after tomorrow. He just had to make a good impression until then.

"I am doing well," she shrugged, "You?"

He nodded, "Well as can be expected."

He shrugged away the nagging feeling that he was not as well as could be expected, but then again, he was dealing with the unexpected. No one would expect Hawk Moth to be their own father, firstly, and secondly, no one would expect Chat Noir to let Hawk Moth off with a warning. He was an embarrassment not only to justice, but also to Ladybug, the love of his life, and he was ashamed of himself. Although, no matter how angry he was with his father, he still loved him.

He couldn't explain any of that in a way that Alya, Nino, or Marinette would understand and he couldn't stomach facing Ladybug day after day with his guilt. It just was never an option. Now that he'd been on his own for a while, self-medicating, he felt even more like a dismal failure. The booze made him feel good, it did, but only temporarily. He should have known he had a problem when two glasses of wine turned into half a bottle, which turned into a whole bottle, which turned into hard liquor at night. No, he couldn't face his friends in the state he was in. It wasn't like he was ashamed about it, it just is what it is, but he couldn't let them see him like this. He didn't want their pity or their excuses. He didn't really want 'help.' He just wanted to make the feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and regret go away. He wanted his sadness to go away. Was that too much to ask? Somewhere, in his old delusional self, he felt that Adrien deserved it. This Adrien...well, that was another story entirely.

Marinette was like a breath of fresh air to him, he suddenly realized, and it hit him like a shock in the chest. He felt something and it wasn't anything he wanted to forget in the depths of a spirit. Hope?

"Would you like to ask your questions before or after we eat?" He asked as Marinette shifted to face him.

"After, if you don't mind." She glanced over to the door where Ramone waited with a bottle of champagne and a smile. "Although, Adrien, I just want us to talk. I'm an active listener."

"I remember," he nodded silently.

Ramone took Marinette's glance as permission to bring the beverages.

"Our 99 point, award winning champagne," Ramone bowed before pouring them each a glass of sparkling champagne. "Master Adrien's creation."

Marinette's eyes widened at that, "You created your own wine? How does one go about doing that?"

Adrien smirked, "Are we starting the conversation before supper then?"

Marinette blushed, "I'm sorry. I'm just personally interested and immensely curious."

"For your own curiosity then," he grinned, "I merely chose the grape varieties, the blend percentages, yeast strains, and what material to use for fermenta tapeet cetera. I, personally, like the traditional ceramic casks, but Ramone is not a fan."

"The temperature is much harder to control," Ramone nodded.

"I am a sentimentalist for the processes of the past. I like a _traditional_ wine," he stressed as he shot Ramone a playful glare.

"Ah, yes, and he is the boss."

"It turned out pretty well, don't you agree, Ramone?"

Ramone grinned, "I do."

"What is the grape blend on this wine?" she asked out of curiosity.

"This one is fifteen percent pinot meunier and eighty-five percent pinot noir. Our other champagne is a chardonnay."

"It is our specialty," Adrien grinned and downed the glass in a gulp. He held it up to Ramone and waved it gently to imply he would like a refill.

"Not pacing yourself for the interview?" Marinette asked with a frown.

Adrien shrugged, "I'm not sure I want to do this sober." As if he was sober to begin with.

Ramone topped him off and placed the bottle in the ice bucket next to their table.

The food came out almost immediately after and they ate in a resoundingly awkward silence. Adrien refilled his glass twice while Marinette was trying to take the edge off as well. She put a voice recorder between them as they finished their meals.

"So, do you want to start?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he nodded.

Marinette pulled out a notepad and hit record on the tape recorder. She bit her lip nervously. "Can we just talk?"

"We are talking," he chuckled.

"I don't want to do an interview like this," she held up the notepad, "I don't like the structure. I don't want to milk you for answers."

A glint appeared in Adrien's eye and he smirked, "Oh, please do."

Marinette blushed and gulped, "Okay, then. Um, how have you been? What have you been up to?"

"If I answer your questions will you do the same?" he inquired. There were lots of things Adrien had missed in the last year and this was the only opportunity he had, as of yet, to learn how everything, and everyone, was in his absence.

"Sure," she nodded nervously, "I suppose."

"Okay, well, most days I stick to this general schedule; bath, breakfast, a quick jog, catch up with current events, lunch, take a survey of the vineyard and operations, read a book or watch some shows, eat supper, and then spend the rest of the evening looking over the fields while I partake in the fruits of our labors while pondering life's mysteries. You?"

"I don't have nearly that regular a schedule. Most days I put in extra hours at Gabriel while I try my hardest to climb an ever increasingly difficult ladder. Alya is still my best friend so we do lunch pretty often. She and Nino are still together. They let me third wheel it often enough to make me feel like I'm not wasting my life all alone, married to my job."

"Ouch," Adrien winced, "You make me sound so boring."

"No," she shook her head, "That's not true."

There was a pregnant pause before Adrien sighed, "How are Nino and Alya."

"Hurt," she blurted before thinking the answer through. He'd merely been asking about how they were doing. Damn alcohol. "Why did you do it, Adrien? Why did you leave?"

Adrien grumbled something under his breath and huffed, "I didn't leave because I wanted to." He leaned forward and grabbed Marinette's left hand in both of his, "I left Paris because I had some personal issues I had to work through. It was nothing against you...or Alya or Nino. There's a reason my father won't let a reporter interview me. It was an agreement we made." Then he squeezed her hand, "I am so happy to see you, Marinette."

She flushed and pulled her hand back into her lap, "I"m happy to see you, too, Adrien. Okay, so you had personal issues. Did those have to do with your father?"

"Is anyone else going to hear this tape?" he glanced down at the recorder and back up to her nervously.

"Uh, no," she shook her head, "It's mine. I won't let anyone hear it if you don't want me to."

"Yes, it had to do with my father. Next question, please?" He had a pleading look in his eyes that made her heart clinch. He looked broken inside and it was an expression he'd surely been trying desperately to hide from her. Yet, now, in this moment she managed to catch a peek of his internal turmoil and it shook her.

Her voice was soft, full of concern, as she reached forward and took his hand in her own again. She felt bad for pulling hers away from him when he was so obviously in need of connection, "Are you okay, Adrien?"

"No." He shook his head, "Are you going to ask any magazine article related questions, though, or are we just going to chat?"

"Chat," she frowned, "I don't want you to think that we abandoned you, either. Nino said he tried to call and text you."

"He did. Then I realized just how much I missed how it used to be," Adrien nodded absentmindedly , "I ran." He dropped his head to the table and sighed, "This conversation hurts too much, Marinette."

She squeezed his hand gently and frowned. "What's your favorite thing to do in your spare time?" Time to change the mood or she risked killing this interview.

He didn't lift his head, but chuckled. He couldn't actually tell her that his favorite thing to do was to transform into Chat Noir and feel the cold air whipping through his hair, feeling like he was free and in Paris again, but he could offer the next best thing, "Besides drink?"

"Yes." Marinette didn't want to think about him just drinking. There were other things he had to like doing, right? Although, she did acknowledge that he liked drinking and that was something he'd do with or without her judgement. With her right hand she reached out, grabbed the bottle of wine, and poured him another glass.

Adrien heard the pouring of liquid into his glass and peeked up with a smirk. "Bless you, Marinette."

She chuckled, "Okay, so what else besides the wine?"

"I've taken up art, actually." Adrien stared down at the table as if it held all the mysteries of the universe, "Sketching, drawing, painting, photography...you name it. Visual arts, if you will."

"Can I see some of it?"

He gulped. There were quite a few sketches of Plagg and Ladybug. He could probably do it, though, after some finagling, "Yeah, sure. Sometime."

"Anything else?"

"I like playing the piano and reading. I've taken up trying to write," he nodded, "It's like opening a valve on my head and just letting everything out. When I first started I had no direction, but with practice I think I've gotten a lot better at it."

"I'm glad you found something that interests you."

In the distance, the sun was set and the sky was a brilliant shade of purple with deep streaks of indigo and highlights of neon pink.

"That's a beautiful sunset," he mused and glanced over to Marinette. She was watching it, too, and nodded. "Could I take a photo?"

"Of course!" She relinquished her hand and Adrien procured a camera from beneath their table. He aimed it towards the sunset and snapped a few shots.

While Marinette was distracted and staring off in the distance, he snapped a few shots of her. She looked his direction and blushed, "These photographs of you are just as beautiful as that sunset, Marinette." He stared down at the preview screen and smiled.

She didn't know what to say to that. So, in typical Marinette fashion, she malfunctioned. She picks up all of her stuff and smiles back at him shyly, "Uh, Adrien, could we continue this tomorrow? I think it's a good stopping point. I think we should both get some sleep."

He stands up suddenly and rushes over to her side of the table, his face laced with concern, "Was it something I said? Did I do something? Are you upset with me, Marinette?"

"No, Adrien, it's nothing. I'm just a little overwhelmed with everything."

He understood that. Adrien nodded, "Okay. Well, let me walk you to your room, at least."

"All right."

Adrien retrieved his camera and told Ramone they were calling it a night. Ramone frowned. Adrien had anticipated more time with his friend. If anyone deserved someone to care about him it was his employer.

They walked up the stairs and he reached down to hold her hand, "Can I tell you a secret, Marinette?"

She glances over at him and nods silently.

"In the past year, I can't remember a day I didn't have a drink. I don't even feel impaired anymore unless I have a lot." He'd been thinking about it a lot since she'd mentioned it.

"Like tonight," she prompted.

He was standing next to her, wobbling slightly, and remembering all he'd had to drink before dinner and during. He nodded reluctantly, "Like tonight."

"It's okay, Adrien," she squeezed his hand reassuringly, "I'm not here to judge you. I just wish I could help you stop."

He grinned, "Thanks, Marinette." His arm wrapped around her shoulders and he placed a chaste kiss to her temple, "Oh how I've missed you."

* * *

Adrien sat in his room and ran his fingers through his hair. That hadn't gone as he'd planned. Then again, their conversation had been more emotional than he'd anticipated. Even through the soft numbing of the alcohol he could feel the sharp pain of longing for a life he'd left behind.

"Plagg, I have to get out of here."

The little cat sat on the desk preening, "Yep. I think I have said this was a bad idea, yes? Your girlfriend is throwing a monkey wrench in your self-destruction here." 

"I'm not destroying myself. I'm just not ready to pretend everything is normal, and lie to everyone I've ever met, by covering for my father."

Plagg nodded minutely and glare, "You didn't have to cover for him, you know."

"I know," he frowned, "But he's still my father and I love him. He made mistakes, and he regrets it. He didn't fight when I asked him to hand over his miraculous."

"You'd have taken it from him anyway," Plagg scoffed.

"Yes, Plagg, but I didn't have to. Don't you see? It's useless explaining myself to you," he grumbled. "Enough talking. Transform me. Claws out!"

Chat Noir flew through the neighboring forests and felt the wind blowing through this long hair. It was exhilarating and wonderful; like a breath of fresh air. Nothing could take that feeling away from him...or so he thought as his breath was sucked out of him.

* * *

 "I'm going for a run, Tikki," Marinette announced as soon as she shut he door to her room, "I need to get out and breathe some fresh air." 

Her conversation with Adrien brought up more questions than he provided answers. She still had nothing to give Alya or Nino as for a reason. Why, why, why? Her frustration, and heartache, was more than she could bear right now.

"Are you sure that is such a great idea, Marinette?"

"Yes," she growled while Tikki wore a knowing frown. "I feel claustrophobic here. I just have to go clear my head a little. Spots on!"

With that, she flew out towards the outskirts of the vineyard where there were plenty of trees and a lower chance of running into someone. There shouldn't have been anyone there, and yet.

It only took that moment of her heart to thud achingly in her chest, before it took on an unruly tempo, at the flicker of a black shadow in the forest. It couldn't be. Chat had disappeared nearly a year ago, with barely anything hinting at a goodbye, so he surely couldn't be here of all places.

The man in black appeared to be talking to himself, "...miss her so much. She reminds me of her and I just can't stop thinking about her. I can't get her out of my head. Why can't I just let this go?! I love her so much, but I've screwed it all up. She never returned my affections before and now I can't even go back and fix it. She probably hates me and I can't blame her. What I did was selfish and I wouldn't deserve her forgiveness."

She only had a moment more to think about whether it was him before his glowing green eyes turned to her and stopped her in her tracks. Chat. It was him. She'd know those eyes anywhere.

This wasn't supposed to happen this way; their meeting, after so long apart, was all wrong. She was supposed to stumble across him, in Paris, after he gave her a happily believable story of how he'd gone away for a job or school or something like that. No, she couldn't believe Chat Noir was hiding from her. He had to have an explanation. He'd better have a dang good one, too. She knew for a fact there weren't any schools nearby and there wasn't a whole lot in the way of _his_ type of employment. He said he was in advertising.

It was no mystery to her now that he genuinely liked her. She'd been so blind to his affections in the past that she both hated and blamed herself for his disappearance, but held onto hope that it had nothing to do with her. The more she thought about things, and the way it had ended between them, the less hope she had that that was the case.

She must have been lost in her own thoughts as she didn't hear him approach.

"My Lady," he whispered in awe, "What are you doing here?"

There was little filter, thank you alcohol, as she blurted, "What are YOU doing here? You've been gone for a year, Chat!"

He looked away ashamedly and cleared his throat, "Uh, I had to get out of Paris."

She rolled her eyes skyward, "Oh, my God, Chat. I'm so sick and tired of that excuse. That's all I hear nowadays for why someone has chosen to turn their backs on the people they love 'it's complicated' or 'I had to get out.' Please. Do me a favor and give me the real reason. You at least owe me that."

"How are you even here, Ladybug?" he asked again, completely in awe.

"No, you answer mine first," she shook her head and held up her finger, "Don't you even do that deflecting stuff."

He stared at his feet for a moment, in silence, and sighed, "I was confronted by Hawk Moth."

"WHAT?!?!" she shrieked before clasping her hands over her mouth. They might be in a secluded part of town, but there was still a chance for someone to be passing by, "What happened?"

"I left," he frowned, "And I know it wasn't _fair_ of me to do that without talking to you about it first, but with circumstances as they were, I didn't feel capable of handling it any other way. I'm so sorry."

She wondered if maybe he had fled for his life. Did Hawk Moth know who Chat Noir was?

As she stared at her partner, who had visibly begun to shake, all of her anger and lingering questions left her like an afterthought in a busy conversation. As if no time had passed at all between them, as if he hadn't hurt her deeply by leaving her heartbroken and confused in Paris, she lunged at him and wrapped her arms around him, "I forgive you, you silly Chat."

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She could feel his cheeks were wet where they brushed up against her skin, "I screwed my life up so bad, bug," he lamented. Chat had had a bit to drink, as well, and his lips were perhaps a bit less secure than they should have been.

"No, no, Chat, we'll figure something out," she sighed against him, "You couldn't have screwed it up that bad."

"You don't know," he shook his head and she heard his breath catch, "My life is in shambles and I'm not sure what to do with myself anymore."

"Look," she sighed, "Don't be a stranger, okay? Can I meet up with you again tomorrow night? For old time's sake? We can talk, really talk, and maybe figure something out." She patted his back reassuringly, "You're my best friend, Chat. I've missed you."

His arms curled around her body, clutching at her like she was going to disappear, and she could feel his claws scratching at her skin beneath her suit. It was painful, but not unbearably so. He held onto her as if she were the last bit of oxygen he'd ever have and he didn't want her to go anywhere.

"Chat?" she asked tentatively, some drips down her neck and lots of silence later, "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded.

"I don't have to worry about you tonight?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, then I think I need to get back so I can go to sleep. You have a good night, all right?"

He pulled back to look at her, his green eyes still glistening, "Thank you, Ladybug. You have a good night, as well."  _I love you._

* * *

Adrien dropped his transformation as he climbed in through his window. It was just in time to let himself melt down in a colossal way that he knew would happen after running into his lady. What was she doing out in those woods? Why was she here?

Although, the melt down he had was not in response to his shock, but more in relief to the way she had held him and forgiven him even though he was certain they were beyond hope. Now, he had hope. It was so unfamiliar for him to feel that sort of hopeful feeling, and with Marinette visiting this week, it felt a lot like deja vu in the most agonizingly beautiful way. Bittersweet, truly.

"Come on, kid," Plagg frowned on his shoulder, "You'll be all right. You didn't record tonight, did you?" Plagg's mouth popped open as he realized he'd forgotten to secure Adrien's phone before transforming.

"No," Adrien shook his head.

"What's going on?"

Adrien sat up and looked at Plagg, a grin brighter than the cat had seen in months, plastered irremoveably across his face. "I saw her, Plagg. My Lady, she's here."

Plagg glared at the door. He knew that girl wouldn't be able to mind her own beeswax and stay in her room. Here she could easily erase all the progress Adrien had made at getting over her. Then again, Plagg softened as he realized she might be just what he needs to heal. It was a double edged sword of a situation; cut him loose or cut him to the quick. It was all up to her. He'd have to find a way to talk to Tikki.

* * *

Marinette dropped her transformation and crawled onto the bed. Tikki was staring up at her with sad eyes.

"I know this was probably a shock, Marinette."

Marinette just stares at her dumbly, "A shock? A shock?! A shock would be that time I woke up on my balcony, naked. A shock would be the time I accidentally doubled the amount of flour in that cake recipe, and ended up doubling the batch, which lead to sixty extra cupcakes. A shock would be when I tripped down the stairs in design school and face planted into that guy's crotch. No, this was not a shock, Tikki. This was...I don't know what this was. Chat has been here all along, hasn't he?"

Tikki frowned, "I don't know, Marinette. I really wish I did."

"Not that you'd tell me," she huffed. She knew Tikki knew who Chat was, but couldn't tell her. It made each day harder to get through without knowing what had happened to him when Tikki knew who he was all along.

"I can't," she frowned.

"I'm going to go check on Adrien and see how he's doing," she sighed. He'd been a bit wobbly on the way up the stairs, obviously more inebriated than usual, so she wanted to be sure he was all right. Tikki just watched quietly as Marinette left the room. A little glowing tear dripped out of her eye and landed on Marinette's pillow. It crystallized into a diamond and Tikki collected it. She then swallowed it just like she always did with those icky, sad feelings.

* * *

Marinette arrived outside of Adrien's bedroom and she could hear sobs and hiccups. It was quiet, but she could hear it.

He'd moved on from his relief at Ladybug being so forgiving. The alcohol really messed with his moods and the interview from earlier with Marinette resurfaced. Now that he was just Adrien, sitting in his empty room, he couldn't help, but dwell on the thoughts she'd brought to the surface. He'd transformed into Chat Noir to escape from it all, but it appeared they weren't going anywhere any time soon.

"I can't do this anymore," he whispered. Marinette's breath caught in her chest. What was he talking about? "I've ruined everything I ever cared about. My friends probably hate me and I can't blame them. This really sucks. GAH!" he exclaimed and Marinette jumped. "I don't know what to do or how to fix it. They'd never understand."

Marinette felt like she shouldn't be standing here, listening to him, like it was an invasion of his privacy. She had already had a moment like this once before tonight and she wasn't about to allow her rudeness to continue. No, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Adrien froze. He wasn't sure who would be knocking on his door at this hour, but he didn't want to see anyone. "Who is it?" he asked as he wiped furiously at his wet eyes.

"Adrien? It's Marinette," she called through the door.

Putting his pride in his pocket, what little of it he had left, he walked to the door and cracked it open, "Do you need something, Marinette?"

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling as the edges of her mouth turned down into a frown, "Are you okay, Adrien? You look upset."

Adrien nodded and sniffed, "Yeah. Uh, you can come in if you want." He pulled the door open and glanced back to make sure Plagg had gone into hiding.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked. Sure, they didn't know each other as well anymore, but he was still her friend. At least, she hoped he could be even if he didn't see it that way now. Marinette always had that seed of hope that they could work things out between the four of them. Nino, though he never would admit it, wanted Adrien back, too. He wanted his best friend back. Alya wanted him back for Nino's sake, and because she was his friend, too, but mostly for Nino.

"I'm having a bit of a rough night," he admitted, "Talking to you tonight...hurts." His voice cracked as he could only manage the one word 'hurt' as he tapped his chest.

"I'm sorry," she frowned, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighed exasperatedly. She wasn't supposed to feel bad, damn it. It wasn't her fault. Nothing was her fault. It was all his fault that he left Paris and they were all feeling so dismal. "No, Marinette, don't apologize. It's not your fault. I left. It is all my fault."

She reached out and grabbed his hand gently, "You know, I think this is the first time I've ever seen you upset."

He glanced up at her with a slight smirk, "Yeah?"

Marinette shrugged, "I mean, I remember you'd have bad days and sulk a bit, but never like this. I'm worried about you."

"I was never allowed to be emotional," he sighed with a shrug, "It was unbecoming for an Agreste man to show his emotions. Instead, I guess I just bottled them all up and they just smoldered somewhere." Until he snapped and it all came flooding out of him, that day he asked for his father's miraculous, with a sense of betrayal he'd never felt before. Not even when his mom disappeared. It was like a dam broke and there was no putting it all back as it was before.

She smiled and squeezed his hand, "I'm glad then."

His head snapped up so he could look at her. What did she mean by that? "Glad?"

She scooted closer so she could lean against him, "I'm glad you are able to be yourself. Maybe you're doing better here than you were in Paris. We still miss you, though."

Adrien smiled at that, "Yeah. I miss everyone, too."

"Maybe you could invite them down to visit, if you're not ready to go back yet."

There was a spark that flickered behind his eyes as he turned his warm smile on her, "Yeah, I should. That's a great idea, Marinette." He threw his arms around her shoulders, completely unaware of her tensing beneath him at the contact, "I should definitely invite you guys down to visit."

"Do you think you like it better here?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. In some ways, yes, but I really miss Nino, and Alya...and _you._ "

They both blushed at his admission. One of his arms was still wrapped around her shoulders so she couldn't easily look up to see his face, "I doubt it. I believe you missed Nino, though."

"Hey!" he squeezed her shoulders, "I missed you and Alya, too." He was tempted to tickle her, but thought that might be inappropriate. He didn't want to overstep his _friendly?_ bounds. "Are we still friends, Marinette?"

As if there to eliminate any doubt, Marinette wrapped an arm around his back and leaned her head on his shoulder, "Yes, we're still friends." Although she'd wished for it to be more, once upon a time, it was nice to think that they could at the very least be that. "Although, I think I need to be getting to bed. It's getting late."

"Yeah," he yawned and lifted his arms away from her to stretch them above his head, "You're right. I'm exhausted. These," he gestured to himself as if grasping for a word, " _Feels_ are awfully exhausting."

"Absolutely," she nodded. Then, as she stood up to leave, she turned to face him once more, "You can always come and talk to me while I'm here. Especially, when you're feeling upset, Adrien. As your friend, I don't want you to think you should have to be alone when you feel like that. I won't write anything, I promise. It'll stay between us."

A genuinely warm smile erupted on his face as he walked her to the door, "Thank you, Marinette. That means a lot to me. And, for the record, the same goes for you." He hiccuped once more, his buzz almost completely warn off, and they both giggled.

"Night."

"Goodnight."

**Author's Note:**

> Another merciless idea refusing to leave me alone. Sigh. The reason it takes me so long to update is the sheer number of works in progress. For that, I apologize. I understand waiting until it is finished.
> 
> **And for the past year I've been executing a move across the Pacific Ocean including house shopping, house buying, new schools for kiddos, leaving behind dear friends, orchestrating packing and unpacking, etc. Lots of work. Thank you for your patience!


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